


artwork and email

by ohjustpeachy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Chronic Illness, Epistolary, Fluff, Fundraisers, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: Tony makes a donation to Art Reach, a non-profit, never expecting to get such a kind thank you note in response. He certainly never thought he'd find himself excited to look in his inbox every day, eager for a new message from the foundation's director, Steve Rogers, but here he is. Or, Tony falls for smol Steve over a bunch of emails and everyone knows it but him.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 37
Kudos: 402
Collections: Stony Loves Steve 2020





	artwork and email

**Author's Note:**

  * For [njava97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/njava97/gifts).



Steve almost didn’t send the thank you note at all. It seemed silly, really. There was no way some rich, famous guy like Tony Stark read his own mail. 

“It’ll probably get tossed in a pile and thrown out,” Steve said to Bucky. 

“Stevie, it’s _a lot_ of money. Like, we can change kids’ _lives,_ a lot of money. I think you should just send it. It’s heartfelt.” 

Steve sighed, because Bucky was right. And, more than that, it was what Steve’s mother would do. Sarah would be horrified if she knew her son had even _considered_ not thanking that man for the money he’d contributed to Art Reach. To his _dream_.

“You’re right,” Steve said. He looked doubtfully at his hand-drawn, hand-written card. “And you’re sure it sounds okay?” 

“You’re awfully worried about how it sounds for something you’re so sure will be thrown out,” Bucky said, before throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulder. 

“I just want to make sure he knows how much we appreciate it. For the _very slim chance_ he reads it.” 

“It’s perfect. Sign, seal, deliver.” 

Steve pushed his glasses up his nose, distracted. The card _was_ nice. On it, he’d done a pen and ink drawing of the Art Reach building. He and Bucky are in the window of their building in Brooklyn, and it's surrounded by kids holding books and pens and colored pencils. He wanted to _show_ Tony Stark, easily the most famous among their investors, that he’d contributed to a beautiful cause. So often the arts were overlooked, defunded, ignored in favor of math and science. Something, Steve knew, Mr. Stark had much more reason to support. 

Steve skimmed the note and nodded, satisfied. 

Signed, sealed, soon to be delivered. 

* * *

If Tony wasn’t in such a foul mood that rainy Monday in June, he probably never would have read the note to begin with. But after a day of meetings that ran from eight in the morning to nearly seven o’clock in the evening, Tony’s _exhausted_. He’d like nothing more than to sit in the solitude of his workshop for at least eight hours to make up for all the bullshit he’d dealt with all day. 

So, when Pepper walks into his office, a new pile of papers perfectly balanced in the crook of her arm, Tony groans. 

“I don’t want it,” Tony says. He doesn't know what it is she’s holding, but he knows, okay, deep in his bones, he doesn’t want to read another pitch, another piece of junk mail, another resume from an unqualified idiot who wants _Stark Industries_ on his long list of lukewarm accomplishments. 

Without missing a beat, Pepper nods. “Most of it, no, probably not. But there is one thing that warrants a look,” she says this mildly enough to pique Tony’s interest. 

“Is it a takeout menu? If it is, you’re absolutely right, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since my smoothie this morning.” Just like that, Tony realizes how hungry he is, and while the idea of a cheeseburger is enticing, the thought of eating it hunched over his too-big kitchen table alone is far less so. 

“Mm no, not a menu, though I’m sure Happy will stop to eat with you on your way home. But take a look through that first.” Pepper winks, sets the pile of mail on Tony’s desk, then turns on her heel and strides out the door without another word. There’s a card at the top of the pile, clearly placed strategically, and Tony picks it up. 

“Alright,” he says to his empty office. “What are we looking at...” 

_Dear Mr. Stark,_

_On behalf of my partner, Bucky Barnes, and I, I wanted to thank you for your donation to Art Reach. There are so many wonderful causes and programs worthy of support, and as a relatively new organization, having your name and support behind us really means the world to us. We’ll be able to change a hell of a lot of kids’ lives with money like this, to keep them in school, keep them drawing, keep their hopes alive, and we have you to thank for so much of that. I hope you know what an amazing impact you’re making in so many people’s lives, starting with ours._

_“Thanks” feels pretty inadequate, but thanks again._

_Steve Rogers_

_Co-founder, Art Reach_

*

“Hey,” Tony says when Pepper makes her way into his office with a knowing smile the next morning. “You were right, there _was_ something worth a damn in that pile of papers last night.” 

“Oh?” Pepper looks pleased despite the coy response. 

“Yeah, a flyer for a new restaurant opening a few blocks away. Wanna go check it out?” 

Pepper clicks her tongue, exasperated. “Tony!”

“The thank you note was very nice,” Tony admits. “I mean, a handwritten thank you card? When was the last time we got one of those?”

“ _You_ got a handwritten thank you card, not we, not this time. Art Reach was your find,” Pepper reminds him, though Tony doesn’t need it. He remembers Art Reach. He was getting coffee one morning and there was a flyer by the register for an event they were putting on. Sam, his usual barista, was behind the counter, and had seen him looking. He explained that Art Reach wasn't just a newer program based in Brooklyn, but one his friends had started. After listening to Sam talk about it and doing some light googling, Tony had gone back to his office in search of Pepper, donation forms, and a check. 

“So it was,” Tony says thoughtfully. He looks down at his desk, where the card still sits. “So it was.” 

Pepper looks at him. “What?”

“Nothing, just… Steve Rogers seems like a really nice guy, that’s all. He’s doing something really good for the city.” 

Pepper continues to stare at him, her eyebrows lifting infinitesimally. “I’m sure he is,” she agrees.

“What’s that look?” 

“What look? No look.” Pepper’s face immediately transforms, a picture of calm. 

“There was a look.” 

“You’re losing it, Tony. You have a meeting in thirty minutes, don’t make me hunt you down. And let me know if you want me to reach out to Steve Rogers.” 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know. A meeting, another donation. A lunch…” 

Now it’s Tony’s turn to stare. “I don’t even know him. I just think he seems nice.” 

“And I agree. So it might be nice to keep working with him, that’s all. Anyway. Meeting. Twenty-nine minutes.” She points her phone at him. “Don’t be late.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Pep-pot.” 

Tony waits until Pepper’s heels are clicking down the hallway before he picks up the thank you card, gazing down at the art on the front. He doesn’t need another lunch with a stranger. He’s had more than enough of those, and he really doesn’t know Steve Rogers from Adam, after all. It would be insane to invite someone to lunch based on nothing but a thank you card. But somewhere, in the back of his mind, Pepper’s voice reminds him that he’s invited people out for a lot less.

He looks at his phone; he has some time before that meeting Pepper warned him about. 

*

 **To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**_Subject:_ ** _Hi_

_Hi Steve,_

_I don’t have much of a reason for writing this, aside from the fact that my assistant, Pepper, intercepted your thank you card and made sure it found its way to me. I hope you don’t mind that I did some light stalking of your website to find your email address. Gotta say, I can’t remember the last time someone sent a thank you note for something, let alone something handwritten (_ and _hand-drawn_ — _I can see why you’re running an art program. Your work is something else)._

_You’re right, of course, there are plenty of organizations that need the help, but alas, my coffee shop had some of your flyers stacked by the register, and seeing as they provide the coffee, I was a captive audience, at least momentarily. Something about Art Reach felt special, though, and I get the feeling you do great work there. Pepper was quick to point out that Art Reach was “my find,” and not-so-gently reminded me that it doesn’t have to be a one time monetary donation. Apparently there are plenty of other ways to get involved in a program like yours. I’m rambling here, but if there’s ever anything I can do to help, well, now you know where to find me._

_TS_

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**_Subject:_ ** _Hi_

_Tony, hi._

_Well, it’s not every day you wake up to an email from Tony Stark in your inbox. You’ll have to pass on our gratitude to your assistant then, too, since it’s thanks to her that you got the note and reached out. Full disclosure? I was actually pretty convinced you’d never lay eyes on it._

_Art Reach_ is _pretty special, but I’m obviously biased in that regard. Bucky and I grew up with single, working parents, and while he mostly went to science clubs on and off through school, a community art program like this one was my saving grace. Before that, I never really realized that art could be a career, or that there was such a wide world of artists right here in the city. Programs like that are always being defunded or disappearing entirely, and I just want to do what I can for the city I love and the kids in it who might not even know what talents they possess. A lot of that work is dependent on donations, though, so of course it’s important to me that I reach out to donors to say thank you. I just never expected you to reach back out. Bucky probably won’t believe it._

_...Who’s rambling now?_

_Anyway, if you’re serious about getting involved, there are always workshops and events going on, and we’d be more than happy to have you there._

_Steve_

*

 **To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**_Subject:_ ** _Rambling Man_

_Steve,_

_I feel like I should warn you in advance that I can almost always out-ramble someone._

_I think it’s probably obvious based on what I’m doing now (former weapons-manufacturer billionaire turned repentant green energy provider) that I was involved in the same type of thing Bucky was as a kid. Science and math clubs, private tutors all through school, anything Howard (my father) thought might give me a leg up. As an adult I’m much more drawn to organizations like Art Reach though, because they let kids explore things that could be their future, but they also let kids be kids. Sometimes you just wanna make something just because, you know?_

_I'll thank Pepper on your behalf. Though, now that I think about it, you’d probably get along with her even better than I do. She’s an art connoisseur, decorated my whole apartment without my input and I’m probably the better for it. I know my walls are._

_As far as your workshops go, I’m happy to help out. I know it’s the money that makes the ship run, but I’d be glad to donate time where I can._

_TS_

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**_Subject:_ ** _Rambling Man_

_I do know. I actually ended up painting half of the Art Reach building myself for that reason. You ever have free rein to paint whatever you want to a seemingly endless amount of walls? It’s daunting, but it’s amazing, too. I still have quite a few spots that I’m saving for a rainy day. I think some of the kids would get a kick out of having a whole wall to throw their ideas on, somewhere where anything goes. I think it’d bring a lot of life into the building. It’s nice, but old, and could use a little more love._

_I’m sure I would love Pepper. I could certainly use someone like that to overhaul my apartment. The walls are white and, like Art Reach, they’re begging to be covered in something. Bucky keeps pointing out that I’ve been there a year and nagging at me to decorate. He says there’s no time like the present, but something else always comes up. That, and art is expensive, even if I_ didn’t _hate wandering through galleries full of people who take one look at me, clock my hearing aids and write me off, either assuming I can’t hear them talking behind my back, or worse, right to my face. That’s probably a conversation for another day, though._

_Steve_

*

 **To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _Rambling Man_

_Steve,_

_Sounds like your friend Bucky and my friend Rhodey would get along like a house on fire. He’s always reminding me there’s no time like the present for things. I’m sorry people are assholes, though. I knew the NYC art scene was … well, let’s just say intense, but that’s bad even for them. If you ever want someone with a good eye for things, Pepper Potts is your gal, and I’m sure she’d love to help you out. We have some pieces in storage here that would love a good, art-loving home._

_Please say you just forgot to include pictures of those walls you painted…_

_TS_

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**_Subject:_ ** _Rambling Man_

_[Image attached]_

_[Image attached]_

_[Image attached]_

_[Image attached]_

_:)_

_Steve_

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _Picasso_

_Wow. Those are incredible, Steve. I might not know a lot about art, but I know that's incredible._

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _Picasso_

_Just a couple of weekend’s work. It’s therapeutic, having nothing but white space to fill and a few hours to kill._

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _Picasso_

_Well, now I know where to come after my next stressful board meeting. The couch with a box of take out isn’t cutting it anymore and now I know why._

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _Picasso_

_You’re welcome any time. It’s nice to have company my own age sometimes. Buck does the books and most of the donor outreach and relations. The majority of my time is spent with the kids and the occasional parent. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but you start to miss adult conversations._

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _Picasso_

_Ah, so I broke the system emailing you directly, then? I, onn the contrary, I have far too many adult conversations, most of them leaving me with a migraine._

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _Picasso_

_[Image attached]_

_[Image attached]_

_Some of the kids’ work from today. Should brighten even a migraine-addled brain._

_And I think we can excuse this one wrench in the system. :)_

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _Picasso_

_Amazing. They’re learning from the best._

_*_

“Tony, are you even listening to me?” Rhodey’s voice stops Tony in his tracks, and he realizes he _hasn’t_ been listening to his friend at all. He puts down his burger.

“Platypus, I’m sorry. What was the question?” Tony gives his best version of puppy dog eyes, looking over at Rhodey from across the table. 

“No question. I was just telling you about the new initiative we’re starting at the base, you know, _top secret_ government stuff, no big deal.” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I am. I’m just…” How to explain the reason for his distraction? Emailing back and forth with someone he’d never met in person? Because the emails from Steve had only increased in number over the last few days. There was no reason for it, Tony knows that. But something lights up inside him every time he sees a new message come in from Steve. 

Tony Stark, excited to read emails? Hell was surely freezing over. But Steve didn’t want to talk to Tony Stark, billionaire. Sure, it started because of a donation, but it had continued because they got along so well, right? They were becoming friends. Or, at least, _friendly_ , right?

“I’m talking to this guy,” Tony blurts out before Rhodey can say a word. “I mean, not talking. Emailing? I donated to his nonprofit. And now he sends me pictures of his art, and the work he does with the kids, and... dog memes. And we talk about other things, too. He has this best friend he talks about a lot, he runs the foundation with him. Steve says he's always telling him there's no time like the present for things, even little things like decorating his apartment. Kinda sounds like someone I know, hm? But then again, he’s an _art guy_ and he has _bare walls._ Kind of ironic, but I guess that's just because he said he hates going to galleries, so…”

Rhodey holds up a hand. “Tones, take a breath, man.”

Tony does. “Thanks,” he says with a smile. “He’s just _nice_ , you know? You should have seen the thank you card he wrote for the donation. He _illustrated it_ , sour patch.” 

“Wow,” Rhodey says, not even attempting to hide his smile. “You got it _bad,_ and fast. Even for you.” He shoots Tony a knowing look. 

“What? No, that Tony Stark left the building years ago, you know that. I haven’t gotten involved with _anyone_ in ages. Maybe that’s my problem.” 

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. You deserve someone nice, Tony. You took the time you needed, got your head on straight, and I mean… You can’t just live to work, that’s not sustainable either. A nice artist might be just what you need.” 

“He’s also hard of hearing. He mentioned it just in passing, about people talking about him and thinking he can’t hear them when he goes to visit galleries. That’s why he hates them.” 

“Assholes,” Rhodey says. 

“Exactly. And I don’t even know him, why should I care? But it makes me so angry because…”

“He’s nice,” Rhodey supplies for him. “You mentioned that.”

“This is crazy,” Tony says. 

“No, it’s not. Worst case scenario you have a good guy to talk to and a new cause to support. Best case, well… That’s probably up to you.”

Tony decides to keep the laundry list of other worst case scenarios to himself, and asks Rhodey to tell him more about his own work thing.

He promises to listen this time. 

*

 **To:** [ **vpotts@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:vpotts@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**_Subject:_ ** _A favor_

_Hey Pep,_

_Remember Art Reach and the guy who runs it? The one who sent the thank you card? He could use some pieces for the bare walls in his apartment, and I thought maybe you could work your magic with him? We have all those pieces you found in storage… I’ll really owe you one._

_Tony_

*

 **To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **vpotts@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:vpotts@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _A favor_

_How did you come to know about his bare walls, Tony? I thought he was just a nice guy with a thank you note, what happened to that? No, on second thought, don’t tell me. I’m happy to help. There’s a dress at Saks with my name on it._

_*_

**To:** [ **vpotts@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:vpotts@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**_Subject:_ ** _A favor_

_You’re the best, dear._

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **vpotts@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:vpotts@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _A favor_

_I know. Saks. A dress, they’re holding it for me :) I’ll reach out to your artist friend._

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **vpotts@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:vpotts@starkindustries.com)

**Subject** : _Your schedule_

_Hi Steve,_

_I’m Pepper Potts, Tony Stark’s assistant. Tony asked me to help you curate some art for your apartment. Should I put some time on the calendar sometime in the next few weeks? You can come by and take a look at what we’ve got, and I’ll arrange for it to be dropped off at your place once we’re done. Let me know!_

_Pepper Potts_

*

 **To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _????_

_Tony, I just got a meeting request from Pepper Potts. She’s talking about decorating my apartment, inviting me to come by to look at pieces in a collection? You really didn’t have to go through all this!_

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _????_

_She’s getting a new dress out of it so don’t feel too bad. If anything, your sympathies can go to me, who braved the women of Saks 5th Ave at lunch time. I’m still recovering. Pepper will work her magic, get her dress, and you won’t be living with empty, art-deprived walls. Win-win. (Except for me, of course)._

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _????_

_You have my sympathies, Tony :)_

_*_

**To:** [ **vpotts@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:vpotts@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _Your schedule_

_Hi Pepper,_

_I’ve heard a lot about you in a short amount of time. Apparently you’re a wizard with putting pieces of art together. I have a pretty small space, but I’d love to check out the work you guys have over there. Do Thursday evenings work for you? It’s the only night we aren’t running a workshop, so I should be able to get away and make my way uptown._

_Thanks!_

_Steve Rogers_

*

 **To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _bye bye brain cells_

 _Do you ever sit in a meeting and wonder how people function? Like, how they go about their daily lives and manage to get dressed in the morning, let alone sit here and yell at other people about things they have no business yelling_ about? _I hope you don’t know what I mean, on second thought. I think I can actually feel my brain cells leaving my body, Steve. It’s a medical phenomenon. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi, I guess. How are you?_

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _bye bye brain cells_

[Image attached]

[Image attached]

[Image attached]

_Hi, Tony,_

_I hope your day got better before now, I know it's late. It’s been a long day over here, too. I’m including some work from the afternoon program since that seemed to help last time. Unfortunately I_ do _know the feeling you described. Turns out, some people want to give their money and then dictate how every last cent of it is spent. And, they don’t often take kindly to the small, asthmatic guy in hearing aids telling them ‘no.’ Despite the day, I hope you’re not, what did you say last time? Slumped over a carton of take out on the couch. :)_

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _bye bye brain cells_

_Those kids are something else, I’ll tell you that much. I’m standing over the sink with pizza, that’s a step in the right direction, right?_

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _bye bye brain cells_

_It is not._

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _bye bye brain cells_

_Mother hen._

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _bye bye brain cells_

 _You emailed_ me, _remember? I was trying to help._

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _bye bye brain cells_

_I never said I was complaining!_

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _bye bye brain cells_

_Go to bed, Tony :)_

_Mother hen_

_*_

“So,” Pepper says, strolling into Tony’s office on a Friday afternoon. He’s staring at his phone, wondering how early is considered _too_ early to phone in the rest of the day and go for a cup of coffee and a long walk home. He likes that, sometimes, walking home alone, sunglasses and music on, no one to talk to. It’s rare that he enjoys solitude these days, but a walk in the sun is enough to do anyone good. 

“So,” Tony repeats. “What did I do now?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to let you know your friend Steve is all set. He’s got five works heading to his apartment this weekend.”

“Ah.” Tony clears his throat. “I didn’t know he was already here.” His chest feels hollow at the discovery.

Pepper smiles. “I didn’t think anything of it. How many meetings do I arrange on your behalf, right? But _he_ was clearly very let down that you wouldn’t be joining us.” 

Tony looks at his phone again, like it might just light up with a new message from Steve, confirming what Pepper was saying. _In your dreams, Stark._

“Oh,” Tony mutters. “We’ve been emailing… just here and there.”

“I _heard_. He did a very good job trying to mask his disappointment, but it was clear he thought you’d be there.” 

“Hmm…” Tony does his best to sound like he isn’t interested one way or another, but then his phone _does_ light up with a message from Steve, and it’s all he can do to mask the delight on his face. His fingers twitch on his desk, anxious to pick it up and see what it says.

“I didn’t realize you’d become so friendly.”

“I—we’re not, not really.” 

“Tony.” When Tony looks up, Pepper is smirking like she knows way too much. He looks away again.

“It’s nothing. I mean okay, sure, we’re friendly.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing the way he talked about you yesterday, is all I’m saying.” 

“I helped him out with that donation, that’s all.” Tony says, because if this _is_ nothing, he needs Pepper to tell him now, so he can stop thinking about Steve so much, stop getting his hopes up. Maybe they are just two friends exchanging emails, after all. It’s just that it’s always felt like more than that, from the minute he read Steve Rogers’ stupid, earnest thank you note and felt compelled to talk to him. 

“Well, whatever you say, Tony. But it didn’t sound like nothing _to me_.”

“Okay, well. I’ll just have to ask him to lunch, then,” Tony says, like he’s conceding something. Maybe he should have listened to Pepper from the beginning. He really should have learned as much by now. 

“Well, this time I’ll leave that up to you.” With another smirk, Pepper leaves his office, letting Tony read the latest email from Steve on his own. 

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** The cycle of thank yous continues

_[Image attached]_

_[Image attached]_

_Tony,_

_Just wanted to show you how some of the prints worked out. Still working on hanging some of them. Thanks again for setting that up, you really didn’t have to, though I have to admit that my apartment looks a hell of a lot better now._

_I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you in person, though. For some reason when I saw that email about coming by, I guess I thought you’d be there too. Maybe another time?_

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

_Seriously, it was nothing. They were collecting dust in the SI storage room, and they deserved a better home than that. And besides, no snooty gallery owners. They do look great up there. And hey, your work could be on someone’s wall someday, wouldn’t that be something?_

_Sorry about yesterday. Pepper was just in here and explained the mix up. I didn’t realize you were coming yesterday or I would have been there, too. Maybe we can do lunch one day soon, if you can get away? Something in between us both, maybe. I’d love to meet in person._

_Tony_

*

“I never should have invited him to lunch,” Tony groans. It’s been almost a week since he’s heard from Steve and he’s torn between worry and despair. Steve _did_ say he wanted to meet. Tony had that in writing, so it shouldn’t have scared him away or anything, really. But then, _why_ hadn't he heard from him?

“Tony, there are so many phone numbers on the website, have you considered just picking up the phone and, I don’t know, _calling him?_ He’s a nice guy, I don’t think he’ll bite.”

“I don’t know, I get the feeling he fights back if you push him.” Tony tries for a joke, but he knows he just sounds _sad._

“I’m sure there’s an explanation. I’d bet money on it. Your next Art Reach donation, how about that?” 

“Very funny.” With an exasperated sigh, Tony refreshes his email one more time. 

It’s not until later that day, when Tony decides he needs a three o’clock espresso that he finds out about the fundraiser. Sam mentions it nonchalantly, asking if Tony planned on attending, and the confusion must have been clear on his face. 

“Yeah,” Sam says, eyebrows lifting. “I would’ve thought you knew. You and Steve seemed pretty close, it seemed like you were getting more involved with the foundation. Well, according to Bucky, at least. And he never lies about that stuff.” 

_Close?_ _More involved?_ Tony swallows. How is it that everyone already knew this?

“We’re friends,” he says lightly. “Donor and recipient turned email correspondents turned friends?”

Sam rolls his eyes as he hands Tony his coffee. “Well, whatever you want to call it. Tell Steve to take a break every now and then, yeah? From me. I haven’t seen him in a little while and with the fundraiser coming up I _know_ he’s gonna be running himself ragged when he shouldn’t be.”

“That does sound like him,” Tony agrees. “I actually haven’t heard back from him in a while myself. I was. Well. We were talking about getting together one of these days and he disappeared.”

 _Pathetic._ Asking one of Steve’s friends where he’s been? Tony feels like a thirteen year old with a crush. But then again, he really _does_ want to know. 

“Doesn’t sound like him. Maybe try again. Or let me know if you want his number. I _know_ he wouldn’t mind if I gave it to you.” 

But just like when Pepper suggested it earlier, calling or even texting feels like it would break the spell, somehow.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll reach out again and if I still don’t hear anything, I’ll be back.” 

“Sure,” Sam says. 

Tony shoves a few bills in the tip jar and leaves before Sam realizes just how much it is. 

*

 **To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _This weekend_

_Hi Steve,_

_You’ve been quiet lately. So quiet, in fact, my pal Sam at the coffee shop mentioned there’s an Art Reach fundraiser this weekend. Said he heard through the grapevine I’ve been “more involved,” lately, and yet, here I am, unaware of said event! I'm wounded, Steve. Anyway, if you need a hand or anything, let me know._

*

 **To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _This weekend [Automated response]_

_Hi there,_

_Thanks so much for your email. I’m currently out of the office. For immediate help or inquiries, please email_ [ _jbb@artreach.org_ ](mailto:jbb@artreach.org) _!_

_Steve Rogers_

_Co-founder_

_Art Reach_

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _This weekend?_

_Hi Tony,_

_Sorry I’ve been a little off the grid lately. I came down with a cold, which shouldn’t be a big deal, I know. But when I get sick my hearing situation is even worse, and hearing aids are_ not _the best when you’re congested. Basically, the cold made my asthma flare up, and then it_ kept _acting up, so… long story short, I’ve been out of pocket for the last few days, which is killing me more than anything, because like you said, our fundraiser is this weekend and I’m usually at the front of all that. Bucky’s here telling me I’d be an idiot not to take you up on your offer to help. So… if you still wanted to, there’s some stuff with the caterer’s that still needs ironing out? And we could_ really _use another hand with setup on Saturday night? I should be better by then, but if I know Bucky, he’ll try to keep me busy checking people in and leave the heavy lifting to other people. He's the one who made me take a few days off in the first place._

_Seriously, if it’s too much to ask, I completely understand. I didn’t mean to ignore your lunch invitation, either. I’m sorry about that. I got sick later that night, and just… yeah._

_Steve_

_*_

**To:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**From:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**Subject:** _This weekend_

_Of course it’s not too much to ask. Consider it done. Let me know the details about where and when and I’ll be there. Drink lots of liquids and try to relax, okay?_

*

 **To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _This weekend_

_Who’s the mother hen now? :)_

_*_

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **jbb@artreach.org** ](mailto:jbb@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _This weekend_

[.doc attached]

[.doc attached]

[.doc attached]

_Hi Tony,_

_Stevie asked me to send over the info about Saturday night. Basically it’s black tie, a bunch of auctions, food, etc. I’m sure you can imagine. Anyway, Steve’s doing better but he keeps pushing himself before he’s_ actually _better. We really appreciate the help. If you could be here around 3:00 on Saturday, that would be great. That way we can get everything set up with plenty of time to spare so Steve doesn’t lose his mind. I love him, but he’s a pain in the ass when he wants to be in charge and can’t be._

_Thanks again,_

_Bucky Barnes_

_*_

By the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, Tony is a bundle of nerves in a way he never is for his own events. He has Pepper and an entire event planning team, for one thing. For another, those things are always pretty low stakes. Board members and clients milling around and drinking too much champagne. Not that Tony was one to talk; he’d been right there with them for a number of years. 

This, though, this was different. This was Steve’s thing. Steve’s pride and joy, _and_ he’s been sick and stressed _and_ they _still hadn’t met_. That’s the thing Tony is struggling to wrap his brain around. How was it possible to feel like he’s known someone for so long when it’s been a matter of months? It should be impossible, and yet… 

“You clean up nice,” Sam says when Tony stops in before heading to the hotel where they were holding the fundraiser. He needs to be caffeinated before he gets his hands dirty. 

“Thanks,” Tony mutters. “Uh, I’ll have a medium green tea with that, too, please,” he says when Sam brings over his usual order.

“Tea,” Sam says, not attempting to hide his sly glance. “To wash down your espresso, or to help out a certain blond guy we both know and love?”

Tony nearly chokes on his coffee. “I was just trying to be nice, I'm already _here_.”

“Very nice indeed,” Sam agrees. He slides Steve’s tea across the counter. “This one’s on me. You’ve left some seriously nice tips lately. And let me know how it goes, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony says. Sam just laughs.

*

“Oh, good, you’re here,” a guy with long, dark hair says as soon as Tony walks into the sprawling hotel room. 

“I am,” Tony says. “I’m Tony. It’s nice to finally meet you. I feel like I already know you, though, Steve’s told me so much.”

Bucky shakes his hand, grinning. “I could say the same for you.” 

Tony’s face heats. Seriously, did _everyone_ know? 

“So. Where do you want me?” Tony asks, desperate to change the subject. 

“The caterers just got here, and need some help moving tables. There’re a few of our volunteers back there already, they’ll tell you what they need. S’that for Steve?” Bucky’s pointing to the cup. 

“Yeah, I figured I was stopping for coffee anyway, and he’s been sick, so. Sorry, I would’ve grabbed something for you, too, but I…”

Bucky laughs. “I get it. He’s still getting ready, you want me to bring this to him, or did you want to…”

Tony lets the question hang in the air between them for a moment before shaking his head. “No, no. I’m here to set up. You can bring that to Steve. I can— I’ll see him later.” 

Bucky nods and points him in the direction of the caterers. 

The next two hours pass in a blur of hot trays, tables, a missing centerpiece, and a constant, nagging anxiety that he’d be meeting Steve soon. By the time everything is good to go, Tony has a new found appreciation for not just Pepper, but everyone involved in putting on his own galas. He’s relieved he thought to bring his suit jacket separately rather than wear it. 

Tony’s straightening his tie for the millionth time and pulls out his phone, to check the time, to have something to do with his hands, to see if, for whatever reason, Steve had sent him something in the last two hours.

He’s surprised to find that there _is_ a message from Steve waiting for him. 

**To:** [ **tstark@starkindustries.com** ](mailto:tstark@starkindustries.com)

**From:** [ **sgr@artreach.org** ](mailto:sgr@artreach.org)

**Subject:** _Guess you really are the mother hen now_

_Thanks for the tea. I’ll see you soon. :)_

_*_

Tony’s smiling stupidly when a voice behind him makes him jump. “I think that’s probably from me.” 

Tony has to blink a few times when he looks up. The man in front of him is blond and blue-eyed and smiling hugely at him, and Tony's breath catches in his throat. It should be weird, seeing Steve Rogers in real life, hearing his voice after reading it after all this time, but it’s just… _not._

“Thanks for the tea,” Steve says, before Tony manages a word.

“Oh, it was nothing,” Tony says finally, still drinking Steve in. If he hadn’t known he’d been sick, he would never be able to tell. Steve's hearing aids are partly obscured by his hair. It’s longish, falling over his forehead in front, though it's cropped a little closer in the back. His suit is perfectly cut, flattering his slim build and accentuated by a blue tie that makes his eyes look, somehow, even more blue. “Our friend Sam didn’t even charge me for it, actually, so really if anyone’s to thank it's…”

“Still you,” Steve says, smiling softly. God, he shouldn’t be allowed to be this attractive _as well as_ funny and generous and insanely talented. How was Tony supposed to stand a chance in the face of it all?

“You’ve thanked me way too many times already.” 

“I know. I’m going to have to make it up to you somehow.” Steve’s eyes are sparkling. 

“Oh, yeah?” Tony’s heart thuds in his chest. He knows there are hundreds of people in the room, guests and donors and caterers and volunteers, but for Tony it’s just the two of them. It’s incredible, really, how perfectly _normal_ it feels to be talking to Steve like this. Joking and smiling like he might just never stop. 

“I mean, first the donation, then the artwork, showing up to help tonight, now the tea, I mean…I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Steve moves a few steps closer, and Tony feels his breath go shallow. 

“It’s not about being even, Steve,” he says. Then, without missing a beat, he signs: _What about that lunch?_

Steve’s jaw drops, and Tony can’t contain the laugh that soars through him at the sight. 

Steve signs back: _When did you learn ASL?_

Tony frowns, then looks up at Steve, feeling suddenly, inexplicably nervous. “After you told me about the gallery people,” he admits. “Somewhere around email five. Sorry, I’m far from fluent, but it’s a start.”

Steve’s face flushes pink, and it takes everything in Tony’s power not to reach over and feel the warmth of it. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Steve says, like a reflex. Tony might have believed him, was it not for the look of incredulous joy working its way over Steve’s face. 

“Well, I haven’t really done much, yet. And, hey, you never answered my question.” 

Steve nods, still smiling, and reaches over, touching Tony’s arm. “Believe me, you have. And I’d love to go out. But you have to let me buy you dinner.”

Tony rolls his eyes, covers Steve’s hand with his own. “Deal.” 


End file.
